"Mother... Mother... I heard Aslan is going to visit Grace's estate," Hans said while lying on his mother's bed.
"You're right. He'll be leaving in five days," his mother replied as she fed a bird perched on the window.
"Why don't you convince Father to stop him? You know I like Grace..." Hans pleaded.
"I can't change your father's decision. Besides, there are many other girls out there. You shouldn't obsess over just one. I could introduce you to some very beautiful girls."
"But Grace is different," Hans said, rolling around on the bed. "Mother... couldn't you just... get rid of him on the way to Grace's place?"
"I won't hire someone to kill him. I don't know why, but there must be a reason he was brought here. If your father finds out he's dead, it could be dangerous."
"Really? But Father doesn't even seem to care about him..." Hans muttered. "Hmm... forget it. Killing him is going too far."
"But maybe a little lesson wouldn't hurt. Losing one arm shouldn't upset your father too much," the queen said, sitting beside Hans and stroking his head.
"..."
"Mother..." Hans whispered.
"Yes~? What is it, my little Hans?"
"..."
"Nothing. Your gloves are a bit dirty from feeding the birds," Hans replied, rolling away from her.
"Hahaha, really? But they always look like this," his mother said, pinching his cheek with a smile.
What they didn't know was that Aslan had overheard their entire conversation. Afterward, he headed to the imperial library to form a plan.
"Sir, could you show me the imperial maps?" Aslan asked the library guard.
"What do you need a map for?"
"I just want to see how far the journey will be."
"Hmm… that's a strange request. You know, I almost thought you were planning to run away. Getting older makes me imagine all kinds of nonsense, hahaha," the guard said with a laugh.
"Hah? Hahaha, yeah, that's impossible. You never even let me learn how to use Tors energy. No way I could outrun imperial soldiers with this weak body. Can you just show me the shelf where the maps are?"
"Hmm… you're in luck. There's a copy right here. No need to search."
"Thanks," Aslan replied, taking the map and heading out.
"Wait!"
"Yes?" Aslan turned around.
The guard looked closely at him.
"Grace's estate is located in the Kingdom of Ardan," the guard said flatly.
"Huh? Oh, thanks," Aslan replied.
Back in his room, Aslan examined the map. The distance between the capital and the Kingdom of Ardan was over 2,000 kilometers. With an average horse speed of 10 km per hour and rest time included, the trip could take over a month—assuming the route was straight and flat, which it certainly wasn't.
Based on Hans and the queen's conversation, Aslan concluded his life wasn't in direct danger—at least not fatally. So he didn't need to worry too much about dying. The real issue was how to escape safely. He still couldn't use Tors energy, which complicated his plans. He would need to escape and fake his death.
Sigh... this map is useless for routes. Just a white page with circles marking the major kingdoms. No lakes, mountains, or terrain. Still, it's better than nothing. I don't even know the name of my birth village, but I remember when I was taken to the empire, the mage who picked me up used teleportation from the edge of an island. That means my village must be on a different island—east of the Empire. Meanwhile, Ardan lies to the west of Arganta, the imperial center. So if I escape, I'll need to circle around the empire to return to my village.
"Let's see what kind of game they're planning."
---
The day of departure arrived. Seven soldiers would escort Aslan. All of them were Tier 2 fighters. In terms of strength, each tier could defeat ten people from the tier below simultaneously with ease. Tier 1s were just ordinary people who couldn't use Tors. That meant a Tier 2 fighter could easily take on 100 normal people.
The emperor himself was currently at Tier 6—a level where a single person could wipe out an entire city. So far, humans had only reached up to Tier 7. But there had once been a man whose power defied measurement. A Tier 7 king once tried to challenge him—and lost everything. His entire force of knights was annihilated in a single day. That mysterious man vanished 19 years ago.
The fallen kingdom was taken over by a merchant family who rebuilt it into a thriving new nation. That kingdom was now called Arya—and the queen, Hans's mother, came from there. The emperor had never cared who ruled which kingdom. As long as they paid tribute to the empire, he left them alone.
Back to Aslan—he was now waiting for the special horses they would ride. He didn't bring his own horse because the ones assigned for the journey were far superior. These were Tors-powered horses, bred and trained to channel energy.
They were twice as fast as normal horses. Aslan didn't want to bring his own, afraid it would die trying to keep up. His earlier travel estimates were now completely off.
All animals could use Tors, but few reached human potential. Most lacked the intelligence to gather ambient Tors, so they relied only on what their bodies naturally produced. This made their growth slow, often capping at a certain tier.
The horses being used for this journey were among the best of their kind, yet they could still only reach Tier 2.
Important to note: even at the same tier, not all species were equal. For example, a normal elephant could easily overpower a Tier 2 wolf. This was due to racial advantage—some species were simply built stronger.
Just as Aslan was about to mount his horse, a mage approached him.
"Aslan, come here. I need to cast a spell on you."
"For what?" Aslan asked.
Hans answered instead, "Do you think someone like you can handle the wind pressure from a horse like that? Hmm… I mean, maybe you could… but you'd be freezing and probably lose control halfway. The spell will protect you from the wind and cold so you can ride comfortably."
"Is that so? Thanks for the info," Aslan said with a faint smile. In truth, he was wondering just how furious the emperor would be if word spread that he had died. Surely he wouldn't sit idly by. Even the queen had hesitated to kill him, fearing the emperor's wrath. Still, from Hans's point of view, Aslan's smile looked sincere—oddly pleasing.
"You think a little 'thank you' will erase my hatred for you? Pfft... Not a chance!" Hans said, his face turning red before storming off.
What a weirdo, Aslan thought.
Aslan and the guards departed for Grace's estate. While still inside the imperial territory, the horses moved like normal steeds. After about half an hour, they reached a towering wall. Once they passed through, the scenery changed dramatically—a rundown area filled with thin, filthy people.
To be continued...